Nine Days To Nothing
by Gelati
Summary: Meteor Matilda is set to hit Earth in exactly nine days, so when Rose & Dmitri meet, it is not under the best of circumstances. Throw Christian into the mix and the roadtrip that ensues is both hilarious and heartbreaking as the group come to terms with their demise. But Rose and Dmitri must decide what they are willing to sacrifice for their love. Friends? Family? Life? All human.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I'd suggested we tie Christian to a pole and leave him behind. Quick, painless, efficient. Of course Lissa had made me swear to bring him alone—an arrangement neither of us were particularly happy about, but when you had nine days to live you made the most of what you had. Of course, there wasn't much to make of Christian Ozera. He was creepy and broody in a totally-not-hot way.

Lissa had some sort of immunity. She was a distant relative of the President's and her family was a sort of royalty in America, powerful and rich. They'd flown in a helicopter and dragged her away from the academy, kicking and screaming for Christian and I. But the pilot had been under specific orders: to retrieve Lissa to her family for the last days on Earth. Tag-alongs were strictly prohibited. Since then Christian had been especially broody, more than usual. It was becoming unbearable.

"Oh, lighten up for a while, would you?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry if I don't find this whole 'Armageddon' situation as amusing as you seem too." He frowned.

"Give it a rest. We're not going to die." I lied lightly to cover the fact that, well, we would indeed die. And soon. And it hurt.

"Oh, suddenly you're a survivalist?" he asked sourly.

"Nah, I'm just an optimist, now do you have the keys or not?" I said.

He fished them out of his pocket. We'd spent the last hour surveying the Academy looking for them, the keys to the only car left. We were running a little late. The rest of the students and faculty had left almost as soon as the news of the government's last-ditch attempts to stop Meteor Matilda had failed, spread. We'd waited around with Lissa, thinking they'd give us a ride to her house as well. Turns out, you had to be rich or a Dragomir to enjoy her family's last supper together. They'd left Christian and I to die alone. I scowled, thinking of the brutality of it as anger uncoiled in my stomach.

Lissa, of course, had called my cell half a dozen times since then. She'd begged for forgiveness over her father's brutality even after I'd assured her it wasn't her fault. She given me directions to her house, all the way across the country, and begged me to come, and to bring Christian. And of course I would, because I had nowhere else to go, and nine days to live.

"I'm driving," I finally said, snapping myself out of my brood. I snatched the keys out of his hand and started the engine, revving it and driving away, top speed.

"Hey!" Christian yelled, running after me. He was slowly and satisfyingly disappearing further in my rear-view mirror with every second. "Lissa wants me alive! You swore!" He screeched, waving his arms like the madman I was sure he was.

I considered for a moment and then slowed the car to running pace. I'd always been wary of Christian, and Lissa's unfailing attraction to him never ceased to baffle me. But he was good for Lissa, even I had to admit that. And it would ruin her if he wasn't returned to her alive, to see one last time before Matilda killed us all. It was obvious he wouldn't make it alone. Although I hadn't seen it yet, the world was supposedly turning into chaos out there, and Christian was the sort of broody rich-kid that would definitely be trampled. I sighed. Of course _I'd_ been charged with protecting the shrimp.

In the end the decision was made for me. Christian had caught up and launched himself in the passenger side. I was slightly impressed with his stamina, not that I would ever let him know that. I levelled a scowl on him and continued driving the beat-up old truck.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"For Lissa," I countered tersely. Though, in truth, I didn't mind Christian all that much. His parents had both killed themselves when he was young, and that sort of explained the creepy vibes I got around him. I supposed I could tolerate him, at the very least, for Lissa. She really did love him. And he loved her in his own creep-tastic way.

He sighed. "I hope she's okay."

"Of _course_ she's okay, Christian. They flew her out in a bloody helicopter, remember? Or were you stoned that day?" I snapped, to hide the fact that he was echoing my own thoughts.

He rolled his eyes. "I do _not_ get _stoned_."

"Sure, sure," I mumbled in response, returning my energies to the annoying clutch. Lissa really was my only family. My mother had shipped me off to the prestigious Academy as soon as I could talk, and I didn't even know who my father was. The Academy had become my home, and Lissa my only family. Underneath my bravado, it was scary. If I didn't make it to the bunker, I would die alone. It wasn't the dying that had me worried, though. More the alone part. To die alone seemed the most tragic fate possible. I _needed_ to get to Lissa. I would do anything humanly possible to get to Lissa. She needed me, and I needed her.

Suddenly the car spluttered and stalled.

"Learn how to drive," Christian muttered.

I frowned, peering down at the speedometer as I tried to restart the car. A blinking light flashed back up at me. The fuel sign. The. Fuel. Sign. I breathed in deeply and blew it out slowly. I counted to ten. I counted backwards from ten. It didn't work. The fury in my stomach boiled over.

"_You didn't check the fuel?!"_ I screeched at Christian, who had gone an even paler shade of white than usual.

He gulped. "I didn't think to! You didn't check it either!"

"It was _your_ job to organise the car!" I shouted back.

"I-I, I'm sorry! There's fuel back at the Academy, I'm sure!" he stammered.

"A lot of good it'll do us over there! We're fifty miles from there! You absolute blithering id-"

"Whoa," he interrupted me. "Fifty miles? How fast were you driving?"

"_That's_ what you're concerned about? How about you worry about the fact that I'm going to kick your ass!"

He gulped, tightening his hold on the door handle. "Lissa wouldn't like that, Rose," he said weakly.

I gritted my teeth. Hiding behind Lissa. Typical. I jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind me and went to sit on the bonnet. I curled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tight, breathing in shaky breaths. I raked my hands through my hair and sang softly for a while, desperately trying to ignore the inevitable. But I couldn't hold it in much longer. I couldn't joke about it, or be sarcastic, or even angry. I just sobbed into my knees. I was going to die. Lissa was going to die. We were all going to die. And there was nothing I could do about it. My whole body shook and tears dripped off my chin.

I cried for a long time before Christian got out of the car and pulled me off the bonnet. I let him hold my hand for a while, and he swivelled me back toward the road so I was facing it.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get going."

And he was right. Now was not the time to be weak, it was not the time to cry. It was the time to take action. And if I was going to go out, I was going to go out Rose Hathaway style. But I would get to Lissa first.

I looked at the road, which seemed endless, sprawling out in front of me. I released Christian's hand and I began to walk. Because if I broke both my legs, I would crawl. If I broke my arms, too, I would slither. I would fight to the end, and nothing would stop me.

**AN: Hey guys! What do you think? It's a bit rusty, I know. I haven't really written in a while. But I'd love some feedback! It'd be great if you took just a few seconds to review (: Thanks so much for reading! Hopefully, if I get enough feedback, I'll continue it, and we might even meet Dimka ;) **

**Have a lovely day (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not Richelle Mead, and thus own nothing but the plot. The characters are all her creation :/**

"So," Christian ventured after hours of silence. We hadn't stopped walking and my legs burned beyond belief. "That was a good bonding moment back there, right?"

I scoffed. "Oh, please, that was not a _bonding_ moment. I still hate you."

He let out a relieved sigh. "Phew, I was getting worried there. I mean, what kind of world would I be living in if Rosemarie Hathaway actually_ liked_ me?" He said, a little bitterly.

A dying world. That was our world now. Meteor Matilda was on track to kill us all in a matter of days. Nine, according to the countdown I'd heard this morning. It was a strange thought, that. Knowing the exact time of your death, and everyone else's. Knowing you couldn't change it. Morbid. But also liberating in a way. Nothing much mattered anymore, to anyone. The world was a free and chaotic place. I tried not to dwell on anything too much. _Lissa. Focus on Lissa._ She needed me. Her family, was, in a word, unbearable. And to be quite truthful, I didn't like the idea of dying alone.

I didn't answer Christian, just kept trudging along. We hadn't passed anything exciting on our way so far, and we'd forgotten to pack anything in our rush this morning, so I was ravenous. My stomach complained with a loud grumble.

"What you got in there? A grizzly?" Christian eyed my stomach with mock fear.

"Har-har. There's a new one. Your sense of humour never ceases to stun me, Ozera."

He snorted in response, but didn't say anything. One point Rose. I smiled a self-satisfied smile.

"Hallelujah!" Christian randomly wooped, making me jump. He ran over to the side of the road like the maniac I was sure he was.

"What? Off your meds, Ozera? Need a top-up?" I teased. I walked over to where he was standing anyway.

"Do you see this?" he exclaimed, ignoring my remarks.

"I see a metal pole," I clarified, confused.

"We're three miles out of town, Rose!" He shouted.

I looked down again and saw that on top of the metal pole which had long since been knocked to the ground, was a sign. **Three Miles to Port Newton**. Suddenly I had some of my lacking enthusiasm back. Food!

"Good eye, Ozera," I congratulated him.

He smirked. "What would you do without me?"

"Live a long and happy life," I said simply. We both winced slightly, but decided to avoid the elephant in the room.

We walked on for what seemed like hours in silence. That, I hated to admit, was one good thing about Christian—perhaps his only redeemable feature—he had no compulsion to fill silence with empty chatter.

"Do you smell that?" he asked suddenly, pausing to sniff the air like a hound dog. "Smells like fire."

I rolled my eyes, remembering the time he'd set a classmate on fire. Of course it was _totally_ an accident. Cough. He'd been suspended for three weeks. "You're going crazy, Ozera," I chided. "Your pyromaniac ways are getting the best of you."

But then I did smell it. Thick, heavy smoke polluting the fresh air. Damn him, he'd been right. I frowned. And then I heard it. The screams.

"Come _on_!" I urged, grabbing his jacket and breaking into a run toward town. There was something going on. As we edged closer I could hear more clearly.

"Burn her!"

"She brought the end of the world!"

"Witch!"

It sounded like something from the 17th century. I frowned in confusion. A game?

The cause of chaos finally came into view. There, in the middle of the town square was a blonde girl, on her knees, tied to a wooden pole. Tied to a stake. Behind her a house crumpled under vicious flames.

I left Christian behind and pushed my way through the mob, who were still yelling erratically. Were they crazy? Had we gone back in time to medieval days? Fury boiled inside me as the girl looked up at me with innocent blue eyes. She was frightened, very frightened. And not a girl. Perhaps my age or older. On her cheek was a giant lily tattoo, etched in varying shades of gold.

"What are you doing?" I shouted, but no one answered. I shoved my way to stand in front of the stake and face the crowd. "What are you doing? What did she do?" I yelled in desperation.

"Witch!" One man yelled back.

"Her evil bought on Matilda!" Another answered.

"Are you _crazy?_" I screamed in anger. "Let her go!"

"Gah!" A man came forward. "We don't have time for this, get out of my way girl."

I didn't miss the can of kerosene he held in his hand, or the frightened whimpers the girl was letting loose. I planted my feet. I crossed my arms. I shifted slightly into a defensive position. "No," I answered simply.

The man went to shove me but I caught his arm, twisted it behind him, and landed a solid kick to his back before he could so much as think. Hours of training had come in handy. He landed face first with a satisfying _crack_.

There was dead silence for a second. Just a second mind you, before they all set on me like a pack of wolves. Unlike in movies, they didn't wait their turn, to make it easier for the heroine. They surrounded me, circling, anticipating.

For a split second I was nervous. But then I understood. This is what I did. I could do this. I just needed to think clearly. My heartbeat returned to its usual rhythm and I forgot everything except my attackers.

Five men surrounded me, while others watched on eagerly. _Focus_. One went for a direct hit, and I dodged it easily, managing to land an uppercut underneath his jaw before another kicked me in the back, forcing me to my knees. _Breathe_. I swiped my leg out low, knocking two men to the ground before someone took a low blow, and punched me square in the face. I reeled back, and onto my feet, absently noting blood was trickling from somewhere. _Patterns. Find their patterns._ Two men were still down, and I decided to take as many out as possible first. I knocked them both out in seconds. But then they were on to me again. A kick in the stomach. One in the chest. An arm around my neck, squeezing. And the smell of kerosene, somehow closer than before. _Don't panic. Never panic._ But more men had joined the fight. It was a lost cause.

I forced myself to go limp, sickening as it was. The man who had me dropped me instantly and I bounded, slightly unsteadily to my feet, knocking him in the jaw. He reeled backward, glaring and rubbing his chin.

Someone knocked me to the ground. A kick in the stomach. Somewhere else, too. I was losing feeling. I was losing.

"Someone help her!" A voice shouted. Male. Christian. Of course he didn't actually think to help me himself.

I struggled to my feet but was knocked down again. _On your feet._ I pushed up again and this time someone grabbed my elbow, but not to shove me down. To help me up. I noticed in the periphery the girl was still safe. Everyone was too enraptured with the fight to think about her now. Animals. Where was the kerosene smell coming from?

Instinctively I stood back-to-back with the person who had helped me up. Three men were in front of me. But they looked slightly wary. I feigned to the right, and then darted to the left, taking him down with a clean blow to the temple. My knuckles throbbed uncomfortably.

The other two backed up slightly, apparently waiting for back-up. I rushed forward and kicked one in the balls, mostly because I'd always wanted to kick a man there and never had the chance. He keeled over and the other man laid a blow into my side, which I nearly dodged. I knocked him once, twice, and then finished him with a kick in the stomach.

I waited for the onslaught. Nothing came. People stared at me, wide-eyed, but none stepped forward. I let myself relax for a second.

"Get her!" A voice commanded me, and suddenly I remembered the girl.

I rushed over to the stake just as someone poured a can of kerosene over her head. Her piercing scream filled the air. I shoved the man away from her, and he didn't attempt to attack, just backed away quickly.

I made quick work of the knots tying her to the stake and helped her to her feet. She sagged onto me. How long had they had her tied up? "Are you okay?" I questioned.

She simply nodded and the smell of kerosene stifled anything else I'd intended to say to her. I led her away from the now quiet and half-dead mob, strewn all over the clearing, into an alley. I set her on the ground and she collapsed.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked again.

She nodded just as Christian came running up. "Rose, I-" He started.

I glared at him. "Save it, Ozera," I said sourly. I turned back to the girl and found my eyes kept drifting to her cheek. "Freaky tattoo," I complimented her. "So what, are you a witch or what?"

She panted and sniffled, wiping her nose with a finger daintily. "No, of course not. My name's Sydney," She swiped her kerosene soaked hair out of her eyes. "I'm an Alchemist."

**AN:** **Hi again guys (: I'm so glad you're back ;) I was really excited with my review last chapter! So thanks guys (: Review! It's not that hard ;-) So what do you think? Is Rose kick-ass or what? And are we forgetting something? Oh yes, who was mystery man who helped her up? Christian? Ten points for the person who guesses it! te-he.  
But I am seriously lacking in motivation. Perhaps if people reviewed, I would not be! ;)  
Have a fantabulous day people :D**


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